Is it possible? I’m not sure. Actually no, I am sure . . . I’m certain – It’s impossible to find normality after you suffer the death of your child.

My life was destroyed after losing my little Craig. There’s nothing else to be said about it. Absolutely destroyed in every way possible and I’ve never, nor ever will, recover from it. What’s more I don’t want to. It’s not something to recover from. It’s not some trite misfortune; it’s not some lousy old bad luck that has blown into my life. Losing Craig was losing everything. The very essence of all that I am – or should I say ‘was’ – destroyed instantly, with the final breath that left my beautiful six year old son.

It’s nearly three years since my son passed away and my life is still a sinking ship. Even for all the good, all the blessings that have since come into my life – namely my precious son Dean – I cannot hope to recover some kind of normal life. In those three years I never returned to work. I swore after Craig passed, that I would not return to the long commuter life that had robbed me, and my little family, of such precious time together. I cursed my old job, my old career, for taking up so much of the life we should have had together. I tried different things – things that I hoped would bring new direction and a little peace to my life: I did several diploma courses and spent money on converting my garage into a therapy room for a start-up business opportunity. But this came to nothing. I tried to push my freelance editing and proofreading career but only with minimal, negligible success. It seems all my endeavours just turn to dust and that I’m now destined to return to the life I swore I’d left behind.

What do I do? Craig’s passing has taught me that time is precious. I do not want to make the same mistake with Dean, as I did with Craig. I want to see him as much as I can every day. I want a better life for me and my family. This is all that I can hope for now. With Craig gone, it is all that I have left – to want better for Dean. But how?

My life can never be normal – in the accepted sense of that word. How can it be when my child is dead? Sometimes that truth weighs unbearably heavy down upon me. This week is such a time. Since Craig passed I feel like I’ve tried my best to out manoeuvre and sidestep the grief that would smother me – pull me down. I’ve always tried to focus on some way out of the darkness, moving forward with purpose and hope. I’ve even felt proud of myself for finding the strength to do so. But when the energy of optimism and high-hopes constantly butts heads with a resolutely grim reality, all momentum is lost.

I suppose this week I feel static, exposed and raw. I feel without hope. There is a tiredness that comes with these emotions that drains and weakens.

I’m just waiting for some divine spark of inspiration to come and buoy me once more – for a little while anyway – so I can find strength enough to find a way out of this mire and offer some hope to my family.